Let's Play House
by MyNameIsCrazy
Summary: He's been in love with a girl for years now, and has never had the courage to say anything to her. Now she's babysitting Manny and he hopes that this is his chance to tell her how he really feels. With his parents out of the house for the month, its just him, his brothers, and her. Wow. This may be more difficult than he really thought it to be. Rated T for language and teen themes
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer. This does not follow any of the movies, or books. It's just...a boy in love with a girl, and his annoying family. And brothers especially.**

* * *

 _Okay, so there's this girl. She's incredible. And not just because of her bod, but that's it's own subject all on it's own. But anyway, her name is Emerson. Yeah, I know that sounds like a dude's name, but trust me. She is anything but._

 _Oh god why'd I write that? My stupidity when it comes to girls is so severe that I think it's terminal. It's probably how I'm going to cack._

I sat back and looked at my computer screen, staring at the words I typed. Why the hell was I even keeping a diary? Diaries were for little girls. Like my little brother. They were stupid and idiotic.

Which was exactly what I needed to store my stupid and idiotic thought process.

I clicked 'save' and closed the laptop. I spun around in my chair and slumped down low, my ass hanging off the seat. I groaned and stared at my wall. There was a knock on the door and I grunted an "Enter". My little brother, Greg, carefully trodded up the few stairs to his brother's room and stood in front of me, the disgruntled teenager.

"What do you want?" I barked.

"You said you were going to take me to see that new horror movie tonight," Greg said, his tone hinting at accusatory. I sighed and peeled myself off of my chair and straightened.

"Oh yeah," I mused. Since my brother started the eighth grade, the two of us had gotten along much better.

I walked to the door and looped my arm around my brother's neck, playfully dragging him down the stairs with me.

"Greg, Roderick, come here please!" Susan Heffley, our dear mother, called from the kitchen. Greg and I looked at each other, clearly annoyed that our guy's night had to be Peanut Butter MUFfiNed. Postponed By Mom Until Further Notice.

"Boys, boys, there you are. Good," our mother said, ushering us into the kitchen. Our father sat at the table with our baby terror, Manny, delicately destructive age four. Greg and I looked at our parents and then at each other.

"Your father and I have decided to take a second honeymoon!" Susan said delightedly. Our father had a dour look on his face that read "Kill me now, it'll be less painful." and we chuckled.

"Okay, so what does that have to do with us?" Roderick chuckled, wondering what else on earth his parents had up their sleeves. Susan looked at Frank and then back at us.

"We are giving you boys the choice of staying here or staying with a friend while we're gone!" Susan exclaimed. Greg and I looked horrified and elated at the same time.

"But what's going to happen with Manny?" Greg asked, asking the question itching at both of us.

Susan waved her hand like it was no worry. "We're hiring a babysitter. She's going to be staying here the whole month. She's a lovely girl, too. We interviewed her and everything, right Frank?"

"Hunh? Oh yeah. Great girl. Cooks, cleans, laundry. And she loves Manny. She thinks he's a little angel, if you can believe that," Frank laughed. Greg and I chuckled and Susan shot all of us a mom death glare. Instantly, all three of us stopped laughing.

"Yes. She is a lovely girl and she loves Manny. It's a win-win situation!" Susan smiled.

Greg and I chuckled. "Yeah, but not for us. We're homeless for a month!" I declared agitatedly. Greg nodded.

What the hell was I supposed to do for a week on the streets? The guys from the band certainly weren't generous enough to let me crash with them. And there was no way I was spending the week with my grandparents. I shuddered at the thought.

"Well, like I mentioned earlier, you boys are welcome to stay here, or you can go to a friend's. Greg, I've already called Rowley's parents and they said it would be alright for you to stay with them. As for you, Roderick, you'll have to find someplace. Or stay here. It's up to you," Susan stated. I chuckled. Like it would be a hard choice.

"I'll call the guys. No way am I staying here with a babysitter," I guffawed. Susan smirked as she looked at her husband.

"Alright. We'll call Emerson and tell her that the house will be empty," she grinned. I felt all the blood drain from my face and into my fingertips, making them heavier than usual. My heart raced and my legs nearly buckled. _Emerson, the girl I was so insanely hot for, was going to be babysitting that little monstrosity? The lucky little bastard!_ I regained my composure and swallowed the lump in my throat.

"Actually, this is a big house. I might as well stick around to help her out. I mean, if she's cool with that," I sputtered. Susan grinned and winked at Greg. I felt my face grow hot and I grabbed his brother by the collar and dragged him into the living room.

"Excuse us," I said, leaning around the doorway before ducking back and boxing Greg around the ears.

"You fucking double agent!" I whispered. Greg put a hand to his chest and mocked being offended. I glared at him and grabbed him by the front of his shirt.

"I just suggested to Mom and Dad a suitable babysitter. She _is_ quite a suitable babysitter, so says her website," Greg smirked. I wanted to rip his brother apart, limb from limb, right here and now. But that would be too much blood. I didn't want a crime scene in this house right now. Not before Emerson comes over. I let go of my brother and pushed him away gruffly. Menacingly cracking my knuckles, I nodded my head in the direction of the kitchen.

"Is everything okay?" Susan asked concernedly. Greg and I beamed falsely, Greg wrapping his arm around my waist, and me putting my arm around Greg's shoulders, my hand firmly squeezing Greg's shoulder, attempting to separate his arm from his body.

"Peachy, Mom," I said through gritted teeth. "We're going to go now. Bye!" I steered Greg out of the room and clear out of the house to my van out front.

"Get in," I said, shoving Greg towards the passenger door, before walking around the front of the van to the driver side.

"Roderick, I..." Greg started, but I cut him off by starting the engine. It was loud enough to convey to my brother how royally pissed I was about him telling our mother about the girl I was in love with. I saw him open his mouth again to speak and I instantly cut him off.

"Can it, mistake," I grunted. He closed his mouth and sat back in his seat. I pulled away from the curb and headed into town. I watched Greg out of the corner of my eye as he looked around at the familiar drive to the theater. He turned to look at me and I kept my eyes forward, focusing on the road.

"You're still taking me to the movie?" Greg asked quietly. I knew he was trying to poke the bear, and the bear was, sadly, used to being poked. I groaned and nodded my head.

"Yep," I sighed. "I want to see it. And Mom would have a fit if I didn't take you. I'm just saving my own ass. So like I said, can it." After that, Greg didn't say a word the entire rest of the drive to the movie.

* * *

 _It was a pretty sucky movie, if I do say so myself. The effects were shit and the girl wasn't even that hot. It was a dumb plot like and the characters sucked. Slashers now were so overdone. If you wanted a good piss-your-pants, sore-throat-from-screaming movie, go watch the ones pre-1990. They were the good ones. Trust me, I know. I had nightmares after some of them._

 _But anyway, I still haven't forgiven Greg for telling Mom and Dad about Emerson. I don't know if I ever will. But seeing as he is going to be staying here as well while they are out of town, I have to put up with him. He didn't want to live with Rowley for a month. And frankly, I didn't blame him. So he's going to stay home._

I saved that entry and closed my laptop. I walked over to my bed and flopped down on it, lying diagonally across the mattress, on top of the comforter and everything. I didn't remember falling asleep, nor do I remember waking up under the blankets either.

Sitting up in bed, I rubbed my eyes, adjusting to the sunlight pouring in. As much as I hated mornings, I loved daybreak. Sunrises to me were the most beautiful inspiration, and I jumped over to my desk and stared out the window. The sun was just rising over Plainville and I smiled, my breath catching in my throat as rosy pinks and bright oranges painted the skies. I sat back in my chair and opened my laptop.

I pulled up Emerson's website and stared at her picture again. For the thirtieth time this week.

Her dark hair framed her ivory face, her hazel eyes staring out, like paintings in tortoise shell frames that were her glasses. She was grinning, holding her little sister, age seven, who was the spitting image of her big sister. If you didn't know Emerson was eighteen and a big sister, you'd think she was the little girl's mother. I closed the tab and sat back in my chair again, contemplating what to wear that day. It was summer. I had graduated, just squeaking by by the skin of my teeth on Honors, and I was a free man. College loomed ahead, and I wasn't prepared. In the slightest.

Emerson had made me want to do better in school, because I wanted to impress her, but to no avail. She didn't even look at me when I made the Honor Roll last semester of school. It was like I did all that hard work for nothing.

"It wasn't for nothing Roderick. You got into a great school. You graduated with Honors! You have our pride in our son," my mom said to me the afternoon after graduation. She knew how much I had tried to impress Emerson, and how hard I had tried my second semester of my junior year and my entire senior year.

I changed into cargo shorts and a band tee shirt and headed downstairs to breakfast. Mom, Dad, Greg and Manny weren't up yet and I glanced at the time on the microwave.

"That's why," I mused to myself quietly. It was six thirty in the morning. Shrugging, I grabbed one of Mom's award winning chocolate chip cookies and headed out the back door to take a walk around the neighborhood before anyone else disturbed my perfect peace, ie my family.

Closing the door quietly behind me, I headed up the driveway towards the front of the house and down the street. It was cooler morning, with dew heavy on the grass, and a thin layer of clouds hanging low around the treetops. Sunlight filtered over the trees and down to the streets, and into windows, and in fingers down to the road, making some areas of pavement glow orange. I shoved my left hand into my pocket and bit into my cookie, munching thoughtfully, lost within my own mind.

"On your left!" a woman's voice called out behind me and I had just enough time to jump out of the way before a girl about my age came running up behind me. She slowed her pace and stopped, turned around and took out one headphone.

"Roderick, Roderick Heffley, right?" she grinned. I had to do a double take on her before I recognized the hazel eyes in the beautiful face.

"Yeah. Emerson Applegate?" I smiled, trying to play the ignorant card. She grinned wider and nodded.

"It's nice to meet you," she grinned. I felt a pang in my chest. So she only knew me by name. And barely by face. I felt as if I was looking at my heart on the ground, stepped on, run over and dirty.

"You too," I choked. She looked at me peculiarly but made nothing of my odd behavior.

"Hey, I'm babysitting for your parents next month," she said, as if I didn't know. I looked at her with mock surprise, hoping she didn't catch that I knew already.

"You are? I knew they were getting a babysitter, but I had no idea it'd be you," I laughed. "You never struck me as a babysitter."

She gave me a deadpan look. "It's my job. I am the highest recommended babysitter in this town," she said flatly. Aaand there I go. Six feet down, laying in a coffin of stupidity. I shook my head and tried to backpedal.

"I never meant it like that, I meant that I never...I'll stop talking now," I said, rubbing the back of my neck nervously. She chuckled.

"It's okay. I think I know what you meant," she smiled. I sighed a sigh of relief.

"So you don't think I'm a total ass?"

"No I don't," she smiled. I sighed again.

"I know you are," she added. My heart dropped out of my chest and all of my limbs lost feeling. She stared at me and started to laugh harder than I ever saw anyone else laugh in my entire life.

"I'm...just...kidding!" she choked out, her laughing suffocating her voice. I stared at her, not sure whether to be relieved that she was joking or angry that she said I was an ass. She calmed down and wiped the tears of laughter out of her lovely eyes.

"Your face was priceless," she continued, catching her breath. I laughed bitterly and went back to my sulking. She stepped up to me and cuffed he across the shoulder. "Oh lighten up. It was a joke, Roderick."

I looked at her and her hazel eyes caught a ray of new sunshine and were illuminated as amber and emerald citrine and all sorts of beautiful colours that made up her exquisite hazel eyes.

"Yeah," I said finally. She smiled and moved away from me, starting to jog in place.

"I have to finish my run this morning, but hopefully I'll see you next week?" she said, moving further and further away from me. My hear soared. _She_ was hoping to see _me_. I grinned and nodded.

"I think you will," I called. She started to run again and I smiled. My first real conversation with Emerson Applegate. The girl I'd been in love with for six years.


	2. Chapter 2

_This is it. Teh day she comes oer and my parents leave. I don't know which I'm more excited for. God my handsa re haking so badly I can barely tipe. Of well. THat's hwat the backstpae c and sacve chages keys are for. Damn my stupid hands!_

I hit save and immediately closed my laptop, unwilling to look at the terrible mistakes I had made. I dressed in a pair of jeans and a black and white buttondown shirt, with sleeves rolled up and a simple necklace. I looked at my reflection and nodded. I looked moderately presentable.

"Roderick!" Greg called at my closed door. I jolted and ran down the few steps and opened my door. Greg was standing there in khakis and a red polo shirt, something he clearly didn't pick out of his own will. I smirked and pulled him into my room and tossed a black short sleeved buttondown at him and threw the red polo into my hamper.

When he was changed, we headed downstairs and waited in the living room as my parents paced in front of their suitcases. We all impatiently waited for the sound of an engine cutting out and the doorbell to ring. I kept glancing out the window as my knee bounced involuntarily. Greg twiddled his thumbs mindlessly and Mom paced in front of Dad, who sat in the armchair.

"She should be here soon, Susan, don't worry," Dad said, trying to comfort my nervous mother.

"I know, Frank, I'm just making sure we left a decent list of everything that's important," Mom lied. Dad, Greg and I all knew that she was a bit nervous to leave the house and us alone in the hands of a very capable eighteen year old girl.

Outside, a maroon sedan pulled into the driveway, next to the van and park. The driver got out and I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. Emerson made her way up the drive with a small suitcase rolling behind her, and a pillow and a sleeping bag tucked under her other arm. Mom lunged for the door and swung it open before Emerson got the chance to knock or ring the doorbell.

"Hello, Mrs. Heffley," Emerson said surprisedly. Mom smiled nervously and ushered the girl inside, muttering mindlessly about the house and Manny.

"Why did you bring a sleeping bag?" Dad asked plainly, looking at her oddly. Emerson looked down at the bundle in her arm and smiled, shrugging.

"So I can sleep, Mr. Heffley," she replied. Mom shook her head and took the sleeping bag from Emerson and chucked it in the closet.

"You are going to be sleeping in our room, Emerson," she said. Emerson gaped at Mom. Clearly she was always made to sleep on the floor when she babysat.

"Oh, no. I can't do that," Emerson insisted. I smiled. She was always humble like that. She never took advantage of a situation.

"No, we insist. You're going to be here for a month. You need somewhere comfortable to sleep, sweetie," Mom urged. Emerson, always the people pleaser, nodded, caving to my mother.

"Thank you, Mrs. Heffley," Emerson smiled. Mom grinned and I watched her eye catch the time.

"Oh, Frank, we have to leave!" she exclaimed, picking up her suitcases and walking to the door.

"Now, you boys behave. Don't give Emerson a hard time. And...oh there was one more thing I'm forgetting," Mom added, stalling at the door.

"No parties!" Dad added. Greg and I nodded, hanging our heads solemnly. Emerson nodded.

"I'll keep them in check, Mr. Heffley," she smiled, looking directly at me. I gave her a smirk and she shook her head, looking back at my parents. "Now you go and enjoy yourselves!" Emerson stooped down to pick up Manny and held him, bouncing back and forth as we all watched my parents leave for the month. As soon as the front door closed, Emerson turned to us, holding Manny still.

"So I think formal introductions are in order, yes?" she grinned, looking between Greg and I. I hadn't told anyone that Emerson and I had already 'met', and I wasn't about to.

"I'm Greg," Greg said, his eyes as round as dinner plates. Clearly, he hadn't expected her to be as beautiful as she was.

"And you are...?" she asked, looking at me.

"Roderick. I think we went to the same high school," I said casually. She smiled and nodded.

"I think so, too," she smiled. She looked at Manny and tickled his side. "And you are Mister Manny," she added, giggling. The little monster laughed and flapped his hands, putting one on her collarbone.

"Emmie!" he giggled. "Emmie, Emmie!"

"Yes! That's right! Emmie! C'mon, Manny, let's go play outside!" Emerson laughed, putting the boy down and taking him by the hand. "You two should join us. It's such a nice day and you have a great backyard," she added. Greg and I looked each other and shrugged.

"Okay," Greg said. I, on the other hand, shook my head.

"I'm staying inside," I said casually, and headed up to my room.

* * *

I watched him leave the room, the four year old tugging me towards the back door, the thirteen year old waiting to follow.

"He's a bit dense, and really hard to understand," Greg said plainly, shrugging his shoulders. I shrugged mine as well and took Manny and Greg outside.

"What shall we play, Manny?" I asked, kneeling down in front of the toddler.

"Ball!" Manny said, pointing to the soccer ball wedged into he hydrangea bushes at the left side of the fence. I looked up at Greg and he shrugged. I smiled at the little boy and ruffled his hair, stood and walked over to the soccer ball wedged under the branches.

I tossed it onto the grass and immediately, Manny and Greg were all over it. I leapt in and we all kicked it around for what felt like hours. The sun was warm on our backs and the breeze cooling to our sweaty brows. I smiled at the boys, realizing that the elder strongly disliked the younger, but they were getting along so perfectly, I wondered which was the truth.

"Okay, it's noon now. Who's game for lunch?" I called. Manny and Greg stopped kicking the ball around and both raised their hand. I opened my arms and the boys came over, Manny sooner than Greg, and both of who were in strong need of a shower.

"Alright, let's see what we've got," I said, walking over to the fridge.

"Pizza!" Greg called.

"Mac an cheese!" Manny yelled. I shook my head at both.

"No. It's too hot for hot food, and plus, pizza isn't good for you on a regular basis," I said. I turned back to the fridge and saw a container of unopened sliced turkey, a jar of mayo that was still good, lettuce, cheese slices and some vine-ripened tomatoes. "Why not..." I started, pulling out the sandwich components.

"We all have some turkey sandwiches!" I said, holding up the large head of lettuce and the container of turkey. Greg grimaced, and Manny copied him.

"What's wrong?" I asked, chuckling at their faces.

"My mom once made a turkey sandwich," Greg said. He didn't finish his story but his shudder finished it for him. I smiled.

"Well what if I made turkey sandwiches the awesome way?" I smiled, winking. Greg and Manny looked at each other with confusion and I walked to my backpack, sitting in the living room. Rifling through the World's Best Babysitter bag, I pulled out large cookie cutters, in the shapes of stars, rockets and dinosaurs.

I held them up to the boys and Manny clapped, but Greg huffed and crossed his arms. "I don't eat shape sandwiches anymore," he said snottily. I smirked.

"Are you sure?" I asked, waving the dinosaur in his face. "It's okay to be a kid, Greg. There's no harm in it. You won't be a kid for much longer, so take as much time as you want now to be one. Don't be in such a hurry to grow up." Greg's face fell and he dropped his arms.

"Can I have a rocket sandwich?" he asked quietly. I smiled and put a hand to his head gently. I was really starting to love these kids.

"Of course, sweetheart," I smiled.

After lunch, I had Greg shower, then I bathed Manny, and we all settled down to a project I had brought with me.

"What? Did you think my whole suitcase was full of clothes?" I laughed as I pulled out face paint, bubbles, lots and lots of acrylic paints and plastic bottles, some plastic bags and other essentials (buttons, pom poms, marbles,sidewalk chalk).

"What about video games?" Greg asked. I laughed.

"Not on my watch, honey," I replied and he looked crestfallen. I smirked and went on to pull out passes to the zoo, museum and movie theater. His face went from crestfallen to excited in just a span of three seconds.

"You are officially awesome," Greg gaped, leaving through How to Build Things with Household Objects and A Babysitter's Guide to Ruling the Universe. I smiled and handed some special markers and special colouring books to Manny. Greg looked at me with horror.

"Aren't you worried he's going to get it all over the table?" Greg asked, looking at me. I smiled and shook my head.

"It's special ink and paper. It only appears on the paper. Do you know how much upholstery, counter tops and walls I've saved with those?" I chuckled. "Hey here's an idea! Let's take a trip to the grocery store!"

Greg groaned and Manny clapped his hands exuberantly, completely unaware of what was going on. I smiled at his ignorance and turned to my belligerent thirteen-year-old.

"Why? The grocery store is so boring!" Greg complained. I smiled and poked his nose.

"If you don't play the Grocery Game," I smiled. Greg looked at me oddly and I pulled out a folder. I leafed through it and pulled out the scavenger hunt I had made when I started to do weekend and week babysitting jobs.

Greg read it over and looked up at me. "And what do I get if I find everything on here?" he asked excitedly.

"You can stay up an hour after your normal bedtime," I smiled. He grinned devilishly at me.

"You are so on," he chuckled, rubbing his hands together mischievously. I smiled and ran my hand over the back of his head and motioned for us to head out to my sedan. I thought about Roderick and stopped in front of the stairway.

"Roderick, we're heading to the grocery store. Want to join us?" I called.

"No," was the response I got back. I looked down at the four-year-old holding my hand and the thirteen-year-old standing next to me and I shrugged.

"Guess not!" I chuckled, and we all headed out of the house. I stopped to lock up and then we all headed to my car. The Heffley parents had left Manny's car seat next to my car and I buckled it in before loading the kids.

"This is a nice car," Greg said, smiling. I adjusted the rear view mirror to look at him and I smiled.

"Thank you," I replied. I turned the car on and drove out of the driveway and down the road to the grocery store.

* * *

I watched as her car pulled out of the drive way and sighed. I wanted to go with them, I really did. I just didn't think I'd be able to handle it, being that close to her. It was like she was their mother. She was good to them. I could hear it. I had snuck down after Greg and Manny's showers and listened to her talk about what they were going to do, and watched as she pulled all sorts of activities out of that suitcase of hers and pile them onto the table.

It frankly looked like a lot of fun. This month was probably going to be one of the best I had ever had. Because she was babysitting my brothers and I had the time all to myself. Not because she was living at my house for the next month.

 _Day 1 of E. Residence:_

 _It's like when you played house when you were kids. You had fun doing the laundry and chores because you didn't really have to do them in real life. But the more I watch her with Manny and Greg the more I get it. What it means to be a parent. It means to be friends with your kids. It means to have fun with them. Damn, I should've gone with her to the grocery store. Grocery Game? That sounds awesome. I never had any fun at a grocery store. It had always been boring._

 _I went downstairs when she left and looked through some of the stuff she had brought with her. It was all awesome stuff! Stuff I never really did when I had a babysitter. She had sidewalk chalk and paints and face paints and colourful duct tape and how-to's and bean bags and all kinds of stuff the cool babysitters always had with them. Hell, she even brought board games!  
_

 _This month is going to be better than I expected._

* * *

At the grocery store, I put Manny in the children's seat of the shopping cart and Greg wandered along next to me.

"So what's on your list first?" I asked. I already knew what it was, but I wanted him to think on it. He scanned the list and found the first item.

"'The most expensive yogurt in the dairy section'," he read. He laughed. "The most expensive yogurt? Is there even such a thing?" I shrugged.

"I don't know. You find it and tell me," I said. I stopped the cart in the produce section and Greg halted.

"What?" he asked.

"We have to figure out what we want for dinner this week. And not fast food, pizza or mac and cheese," I smirked, knocking the first three things on the tip of his tongue of the list. He looked deflated but quickly inflated once more.

"I don't know. We don't really eat much of a variety, so why don't you pick?" Greg said. I eyed him cautiously and smiled.

"Are you sure you want to leave that up to me?" I chuckled. Greg looked worried and I embraced him one armed. "I'm pulling your leg. Tonight, let's do a chicken stir fry. Tomorrow we can do some grilled veggies and steaks, then taco salads Thursday, pasta Friday, then left overs Saturday, and Sunday, then grocery shopping again Monday."

Greg gaped at me. "My parents are never this organized," Greg chuckled. I led him along to pick out some organic bell peppers and we continued to talk. I let Manny hold one of the red bell peppers as we walked around, Greg slowly checking things off his list. Things like organic frozen orange juice, and pistachio ice cream. We finally got to the register with a full cart of healthy snacks that all three boys would eat, a case of water bottles, three gallons of milk, and ingredients for this week's dinners, as well as lots of healthy lunch options.

"When we get home, will you please ask Roderick to help bring the groceries in?" I asked, climbing back into he car after loading the groceries and Manny into the car.

"Yeah, but I don't know if he'll help. He usually doesn't," Greg said. I looked at him in the rear view mirror, sitting behind me.

"Well if he doesn't help, tell him he can't help with dinner," I replied. Greg snorted and I gave him a mom look.

"Why would he want to?"

"Because it's a familial thing to do, that's why," I replied, shifting gears to reverse and pulling out of the parking spot carefully. I shifted back into drive and headed for the exit, and back towards home.

"My mom always kicks us out whenever she's making any kind of food," Greg said, a tone of sadness in his voice. I smiled.

"Well I won't do that this month," I smiled. "Yellow car!" I called pointing out the right side of the windshield at the yellow beetle turning the corner.

"I haven't played that in forever!" Greg laughed. I smiled.

When we got home, I was surprised to see Roderick standing on the front porch, almost as if he was waiting for us to get home. I pulled into the driveway and put the car in park, shut off the engine and unlocked the doors. Greg climbed out of the car and walked around to the trunk while I got out and walked around to get Manny, who was squirming in his car seat.

"Want to help bring in the groceries?" I called. Roderick smirked and shook his head.

"Not a chance," he chortled. Greg looked at me and ran over to his brother, whispered something in his ear, then the two walked back over to my car.

"Whatcha got?" Roderick asked, smirking. I cuffed him on the shoulder, smiling, just like I had that one morning I bumped into him on my morning run. He seemed to remember as well, because his smirk changed to a smile.

"You can grab the heavy things and bring them in," I said, hoisting Manny up on my hip and handing him his pepper which was sitting on top of all the bags. I grabbed the fragile items, the eggs, veggies and frozen yogurt and carried them inside. When we got to the kitchen, Manny was feeling a little heavier than usual and I felt his head drop onto my shoulder. I smiled and gently pried the pepper from his little hands and set down my bags.

"C'mon, lil' buddy, time for a nap," I crooned, running my fingers through his curly red hair. I grabbed my portable CD player and a classical piano CD and brought them upstairs with me.

Just as I was halfway up the stairs, I saw Greg and Roderick come in, bearing nearly every grocery bag from the trunk. I smiled, mouthing "I'm putting Manny down for a nap. I'll be right back." and headed upstairs. I reached his room and pushed the door open with my foot and carried him inside. I lay him down on his toddler bed and pulled off his sneakers. I tucked him in and kissed his forehead gently. Putting the player on his nightstand, I hit play and Clair De Lune swirled around the room as I drew the shades and curtains and turned on a night light. I walked out and closed the door quietly behind me. Downstairs, I heard rustling and shouts, and ran downstairs to the kitchen.

In the kitchen, plastic grocery bags were strewn all across every flat surface in the kitchen, Greg and Roderick at the center of all of it. I folded my arms and put on the best mom face, which struck fear into hearts, even in teenagers.

"Your brother is napping. Please show him some courtesy," I said sternly. They each dropped the bag they were holding and hung their heads. "Now pick up these bags and put them all into one. I'll put the groceries away."

"But we already did. That's why we were having a bag war," Greg said. I looked around. Not a single block of cheese, nor apple was sitting out. Everything was put away. I gaped at them.

"Wow," I said, impressed. Greg and Roderick looked at each other and beamed.


	3. Chapter 3

I looked at Roderick then back to the trunk. I knew for sure that this month was going to be so much better than I had hoped for. Emerson was like a mom to me and Manny, but one of the cool moms. A mom that rewards you for doing your homework on time and lets you eat cookies whenever you wanted. But that wasn't really what Emerson was about. She got us healthy snacks, which I thought were going to be gross, but actually rocked. she got us organic gummy snacks in the shapes of rabbits that tasted like real fruits, and dried blueberries, which tasted like candy. And organic sweet potato chips and popcorn that blew minds.

Who knew healthy snacks would be better than junk food? I looked at my brother again as we piled grocery bags onto each other's arms and waddled into the house, carrying nearly everything, save the gallons of milk. Emerson was heading up the stairs, cradling Manny in her arms and mouthed to us that she was putting him down for a nap. We both nodded then continued to waddle to the kitchen.

"Let's put everything away before she gets back down," Roderick said quickly, unloading his arms. I stared at him as I did the same. I knew my brother was into this girl, but I never really knew until just now. Usually, he'd run in the opposite direction of chores, but here he was, eager to put away _groceries._ I guess love made you do things you'd otherwise never do.

I shrugged and agreed, and we both set to work putting everything away. I worked on the fridge while Roderick ran out to grab the three gallons then the case of water bottles, and then go to work on stocking the cabinets.

Once everything was put away he chucked a plastic bag at me, which beaned me right on the side of the head. I gave him a disgruntled look and chucked one back at him, thus ensuing a bag war.

There were footsteps near the dining table and we turned to see Emerson standing there, her arms folded, glaring at us in a way only a mother could. I felt my body go cold, and to my surprise, I watched as Roderick went somewhat rigid, too.

"Your brother is napping. Please show him some courtesy," she said sternly. Roderick and I hung our heads solemnly and nodded. "Now pick up these bags and put them all into one. I'll put the groceries away."

"But," I said, looking around. "We already did. That's why we're having a bag war." Emerson looked around. A look of impression dawned on her face and she smiled at us.

"Wow," she said, impressed. I looked up at Roderick and beamed. "It's three now, what do you boys want to do?"

I could almost hear Roderick biting back the urge to say "You." but he definitely made a better choice.

"I'm going to go practice my guitar," he said and sauntered off to the stairs, and probably up to his room. That left me alone with Emerson and I shrugged.

"We could do something you brought with you," I shrugged. Emerson smiled and nodded, motioning to the dining table. We sat down and started to go through her folder of totally awesome babysitting ideas when I came across one.

"Let's do a camp out in the backyard this month!" I exclaimed. Emerson looked at me and smiled.

"That sounds like a great idea, Greg!" she said, running her hand across the back of my head again. I liked it when she did that, that little touch of affection. Usually babysitters thought that middle schoolers were evil little demons or annoying, but Emerson was cool. She liked me. And I liked her a lot. She was nice and she seemed to really care about me, even though she had just met me this morning. She was the kind of mom I wish my mom was, even though Emerson was only eighteen. Wait. No. She was turning nineteen on July tenth! That was next week! I had to get Roderick and ask him to help me have a birthday party for her. I could totally go a little overboard on the crafting and make her something really cool, and maybe even get Manny to help me!

Yeah! That would be awesome! But would she want a birthday? I'd have ask. Subtly, of course. "So Emerson, when's your birthday?" I asked. Yeah. Subtle. Way to go, Greg Heffley.

"It's July tenth. Next week, actually," she said, looking through her folder. I smiled and she looked at me oddly. "Why? What are you planning?"

"Oh nothing. Can I go watch TV?" I asked. She sighed and nodded. I leapt up from my chair and headed into the living room. I turned the TV on to a channel I normally watched and then quietly crept over to the stairs and up to Roderick's room. I knocked three times, he barked "Enter" and I slipped in, closing the door quietly.

"What do you want?" Roderick asked, plucking the strings of his guitar mindlessly as he tuned it. It was a nice guitar, acoustic, made of mahogany. He got it for Christmas two years ago, and only plays it in secret from his band. He's their drummer, not guitarist.

"Emerson's birthday is next week," I said flatly. Roderick strummed a wrong cord and it came out screechy and garbled, but he didn't do anything about it.

"What?" he asked, setting it aside and sitting up in his chair.

"Her birthday is next week. I think we should do something special for her," I said. Roderick stood and paced around his room. He motioned for me to come in and pointed to the chair he was just sitting in. I sat down and watched as he paced, clearly deep in thought.

"She likes the outdoors. Maybe we could go camping then. Or even just in the backyard. Or go on a hike!" Roderick said. I looked at him with surprise. I'd never seen him so exuberant to make someone happy before. This was a side of him I'd never seen before.

"I already suggested to her that we have a camp out in the backyard as just an activity while she's here. Maybe we could go camping for real before Mom and Dad get home," I said. My voice trailed off when I said Mom and Dad get home, and I saw a nerve it Roderick's jaw twitch. Even on just the first day she was here, we were having more fun with Emerson than we did with our parents. Sure we loved them, but they didn't do things we liked to do.

"Yeah. Maybe," Roderick said quietly, sitting down on his bed.

"I want to get her a cake, though. A small one. Something not too big, that the four of us can share," I suggested. I wanted to think that it was like I was talking to my dad about my mom's birthday. To do something ridiculously special, just the four of us and no one else.

"A cake'll do," Roderick muttered. "She had mentioned before, during school, that there was a pair of sneakers she really wanted, and I looked them up too. They're expensive, but I think with our allowance and the money I've got saved up from my job, we could get them for her," Roderick added. Once more, there was the generous side of my brother that never showed itself until it pertained to someone like himself. But this time, it was for a girl. A girl who he seemed to care about more than himself.

I was starting to think I was seeing my brother in a whole new light.

* * *

That evening, around five thirty, Manny woke up and I was there to get him out of bed, brush his teeth and bring him downstairs to start dinner. Greg and Roderick were in the living room watching cartoons, the elder of who finally left his cave to join the living (which was what I had told him when he appeared in the living room).

"Boys, time to start dinner!" I called from the kitchen after putting on some relaxing music to cook to. They came sauntering in and took seats at the bar while I dished out instructions.

"Greg, I want you to chop veggies and Roderick, I want you to help. I'll cook the meat and saute everything," I said. They nodded and I set them to work chopping red peppers and water chestnuts and broccoli. I threw some snow peas in with the mix that was slowly starting to accumulate and then set to work dicing the chicken breasts.

"You really seem to have your head about you in the kitchen, Emerson," Roderick said I turned to him and smiled.

"Yeah, I guess I do. When your mom is a chef in New York, you really get to know some great tips," I said, smiling. They gaped at me.

"Your mom works in New York City?" Greg asked. I slid the raw chicken into the wok and nodded. I washed my hands thoroughly then wiped them on my apron before walking over to them.

"Yeah. My parents split a few years back because my dad didn't want to hold my mom back from living her dream of working in an exclusive restaurant, so they divorced. It was a really hard decision on my mom, but I fly out there for Christmas with my little sister to see her," I explained. "She even lets me cook with her." I smiled at them and took the large bowl of veggies from them and emptied it into the wok, drizzled olive oil over it all and turned on the fire. I stirred the contents of the pan around a bit and covered it to let it cook for a while.

"What else can you cook?" Roderick asked, seeming genuinely interested in my skill. I shrugged, thinking about it. I'd never had anyone ask me what I could cook. I was just expected to make it.

"A lot of stuff. I make pretty amazing pork chops, I can make mind-blowing chicken, steaks I'm pretty good at. Poultry is my specialty, but red meats and pasta are close seconds," I explained, gently shaking the wok to mix the ingredients. I smiled to myself and sighed. "I really want to be a chef like my mom. She makes people smile so much. They _always_ ask to speak to the chef. And she always comes back to the kitchen beaming, her cheeks pink with embarrassment. She makes so many people happy. And they always come back. She has regulars, you know. They opened the kitchen just to let the customers watch her cook. She cares so much about what goes into her food."

I squeezed my eyes shut and a tear raced down my cheek and dripped onto my hand, still wrapped around the handle of the wok. I turned around, wiping my eye and smiled. "She's my hero," I beamed, starting to cry. Laughing at my blubbering, I quickly wiped my eyes and turned back to my dish.

"Hey, are you okay?" Roderick said, walking over to me and wrapping an arm around the middle of my back. I jumped slightly at his touch, and stepped away politely.

"I'm fine. But thank you," I grinned. I felt my cheeks growing pink and I turned away from him and continued to concentrate on my dish. What was I thinking? I couldn't let anything slip now. Not on the first day. I can't blow this job. It's a good job. A month of eight dollars an hour plus being paid back for groceries? It was great money! I could probably pay for half of a semester at culinary school in New York with that! I took a deep breath and suddenly, the heavenly smell of sauteing onions, peppers and chicken doused my senses and brought me back to reality. That I had a job to do. Babysitting. Not falling deeper in love than I already was.

After abut fifteen more minutes, I announced that dinner was ready and the boys looked expectant and starving. I piled three plates full of veggies and chicken before taking a smaller plate with less veggies and a little more chicken for Manny.

"Shall we sit down and eat?" I smiled, holding my plate and Manny's. Greg and Roderick nodded and took their seats. I sat at the head of the table, Manny to the right of me. "Bon apetit!" I grinned and the two teenagers dug in.

"Oh my god," Roderick grunted through a mouthful of stir fry. "This is amazing."

"I completely agree. I don't know what you did to this, but I think it's got me hooked on your cooking," Greg said. I blushed and smiled as I helped Manny eat.

"You're too kind," I smiled. They shook their heads.

"No. You're too humble," Roderick countered. I had always known this guy as a bad-ass who didn't care about anyone but himself and his band, but I've gotten to know a much softer side of him, in just a few hours. It was amazing how much you get to know someone when you live with them for a month. Or start to.

After dinner was dessert, fresh raspberries served with mint and vanilla frozen yogurt. It was a delicate arrangement, one scoop of yogurt, a handful of berries and a pair of mint leaves for garnish. I brought it all over on a tray, smiling, and passed each dessert out. Greg and Roderick looked at each other confusedly and then at me.

"Is everything okay?" I asked, setting my spoon back down.

"We never had something this perfectly put together before," Greg said, speaking for all three of them. I smiled and took a spoonful of ice cream.

"Well, now you have. Eat up or it'll melt," I chuckled.

* * *

That night, after a rousing (and rather verbal) game of Scrabble, we all parted ways and went to bed. I watched from the door as Emerson tucked Manny in after dressing him in his dinosaur pajamas, and singing him a lullaby. It was in a different language, but it was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever heard. Her voice wasn't the prettiest, but it was real. It _felt_ real. You didn't have to be a professional to sing a lullaby. I stood there as she sang, over and over, until she was satisfied that Manny was completely asleep.

She stood and made for the door and I panicked, not knowing what my escape plan was. She stepped out of the door and closed it quietly, smiling. She noticed me next to the door and jumped slightly.

"How long were you standing there?" she asked.

"Long enough. What language was that?" I replied, taking my turn to ask questions.

"Gaelic. My Granna used to sing it to me when I was little. She was right from Scotland. Had the heavy accent and everything. When I get angry, my Da tells me that I start to get an accent when I get mad, even speak a little Gaelic when I'm really mad," she explained. She blushed at the fact that she just told me a lot about her and I simply smiled

"Sorry about all that. I don't usually spout off like that," she grinned. I shrugged.

"I didn't mind," I said. She smiled and looked past me.

"Your parents' room is that one, right?" she asked, pointing at something behind me. I turned and saw the closed door she was pointing at and nodded. She nodded and turned towards the stairwell.

"Well, I'm going to shower and go to bed. If you need anything just knock," she said plainly. She went downstairs to get her suitcase no doubt and I smirked to myself and headed towards my own room.

"Hey," Greg whispered, poking his head around his bedroom door. I looked towards the stairs and ducked inside, shutting the door behind me.

"What?" I asked as he walked over to his computer. Mom had finally bought him a computer for his birthday last month. He pulled up a screen of the sneakers that she wanted and I saw that they were being sold for a much cheaper price, something that was within his budget. Greg jotted down the website and handed it to me on a sticky note and I thanked him but cuffing him upside the head.

I walked out of the room and saw Emerson walking into my parents' room, my heart aching to be with her. I crumpled the paper in my hand and took a deep breath. I turned to my own room and went inside.

* * *

Even though I had been to so many different houses, it was still an adjustment to make. And this job was the biggest adjustment I had to make. I sat up in bed, the house dark, everyone asleep, and walked downstairs. I walked into the living room and turned on the TV, turning down the volume instantly. Lame late night cartoons were playing, old slap-stick from the forties and fifties. I sat on the couch and mindlessly watched the screen, my eyes losing focus for a while.

I felt the hot sting of salty tears prick my eyes and I squeezed them shut, the tears rolling down my cheeks, racing each other and finally beading under my chin. I sniffled and pulled my legs up onto the couch, wrapping my arms around them and resting my chin on my knees. I licked my dry lips, not making the situation any better, but giving my body something mindless to do.

"Emerson?" I jolted out of my catatonic state and turned to see Roderick standing at the foot of the stairs, wearing plaid boxers and a grey tee shirt. His hair was all ruffled and he looked like he had just woken up.

"I'm fine. Go back to bed," I said quickly. He rubbed his eyes and walked around the couch, sitting down next to me on the left.

"I never asked how you were. I just asked if it were you," he chuckled, his voice raspy from sleep. He wrapped his arm around me, but I shied away from him.

"I'm not trying to make a move on you," he chuckled again. I bit my lip and scooched closer to him again. I leaned over and rested my head on his chest, and I felt him wrap an arm around my shoulders. I stifled a sob and bit my lip to stay quiet.

"It's okay, you can cry. I won't say anything. I'll just keep handing you tissues," he smiled. I let out the sob and buried my face in his chest. I felt him pull me closer and put his other hand on my head, gently petting my hair. I bunched his tee shirt in my hand and just cried into his chest. Roderick Heffley was the last person I ever thought I'd cry to, or on for that matter, but he was the one person that I wanted to. I had had a crush on him since the first day of seventh grade, and it'd lasted until this very day. And I knew that it would until my last.

I finally drew a rattling breath and sat back, resting my head on his shoulder, wiping my eyes. He left his hand on my shoulder, his thumb gently rubbing my shoulder, a comfort, not an advance.

"I should get back to bed," I sniffled. I sat up and Roderick drew his arm back and rubbed my knee gently.

"Okay," he smiled. "Good night." I nodded stiffly and walked upstairs and back to my room. I closed the door and walked to my bed blindly. Laying down, I stared out the front window, wondering what the fuck had just happened.

' _Whatever it was,_ ' she thought, _'I liked it._ '


End file.
